


The Long Way 'Round

by decoytardis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Aftermath of Torture, M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decoytardis/pseuds/decoytardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a firebender and Sam is a waterbender.  The story begins as they begin to track down Dean's torturer as well as the one who saved him.  Eventual Destiel.  Not sure if it will be explicit yet, so be aware that it might change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean Has Some Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask, here are a few things you ought to know about the setting: It's set in the Avatar world, but a more modern and spread out world with less physical divisions between the four nations. They still have their own original capitals and stuff, but most of the urban areas are mixes of different peoples. For the sake of my sanity, I chose to use the same place names used in Supernatural instead of trying to approximate the different places on an Avatar world map.

1  
“Rise and shine, baby brother, it’s time to go,” Dean said, creating a bright fireball that hurt Sam’s eyes.

“You know, most people would just settle for opening the window,” Sam replied, turning over and covering his head with his pillow.

“Don’t make me burn that pillow, Sammy,” Dean threatened.

“Go ahead. Explain to the hotel staff why one of their pillows is missing and why there are ashes in a non-smoking room. And the smoke alarm is bound to go off too. I know we aren’t exactly paying for the stay legally, but adding a league of firemen into the mix really isn’t something we need.”

Dean snuffed out the flame. “Well you could have put the fire out anyway, Mr. Waterbender.”

“You say that like it’s an insult. Mom was a waterbender too.”

“Yeah well…at least I didn’t run off to find a bending master like you did without telling anyone where I went.”

“If I would have asked you and dad you would have said no. I wasn’t going to stay stuck in the Fire Nation as a next to useless waterbender all my life. You have no idea how isolating it is to be the only surviving waterbender in a family of firebenders. I had to go be with other people like me instead of being hidden away like some freak all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah you’ve said that before. But seriously, we’re burning daylight. Or have you forgotten the lead we have on Alastair?”

Sam yawned. “How could I forget? I almost got shattered by that earthbender yesterday finding out that lead. I just thought that was worth getting some sleep instead of napping for 4 hours like you do. Especially after putting out all of the fires you caused on the surrounding buildings. You know…when in a city built primarily out of wood, firebending is best done in open spaces away from buildings.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean growled.

Sam smirked and stretched his sore muscles before changing into a fresh t-shirt. That was another perk of waterbending: they never had to go to a laundromat to get their clothes clean. When Sam was gone for those 4 long years, Dean had barely survived doing his own laundry. They never talked about it, but Sam always took care of it without complaint after that.  
Dean handed him a bag that smelled of greasy food and a cup of coffee, both of which that he had kept warm for a few hours while Sam slept. “Eat while we’re in the Impala. It’s a long way to Sioux Falls and Bobby’s our only chance to find out how to kill this guy.”

Mumbling under his breath, Sam took the food and scowled at the lack of anything healthy in the oily paper bag. Such was the life on the road, so he made do with it. 

It was going to be a long ten hours, even with Dean’s reckless disregard for speed limits. On a normal day, Dean was a relatively relaxed driver, but at the moment he was fidgeting and sending sparks from his fingertips. His knack of harnessing electricity to fuel the car was good for eliminating pit stops, but Sam was currently wishing that they had to rely on gasoline like any regular person so Dean could stop and calm down for a while.

Eventually a couple hours later he convinced Dean that they needed to stop at a rest area. While Dean was busy making a very animated phone call to Bobby outside, Sam discretely used his bending to nick the keys from Dean’s pocket. When Dean finally finished his call and sat down in the driver’s seat, he immediately snapped. “Where are the keys?!”  
“Get out of the driver’s seat, Dean. The last thing I need is for you to lose control and blow up the car when we’re speeding down the highway. I’m not saying you have to let me drive, but you definitely need to give it a rest. So are you gonna let me drive, or are you going to sleep for a couple hours?”  
As much as Dean wanted to shout a denial that anything was wrong, he really was too tired to argue. “You crash my Baby, you’re dead,” he warned, getting out of the car to switch seats with his brother.


	2. Bobby Doesn't Do Hissy Fits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of past torture and abuse, so be forewarned. There is nothing too specific or graphic, but I thought I ought to tell you just the same.

A couple hours’ nap turned out to be the entire drive to Bobby’s, for which Sam was grateful, though he was exhausted by time they arrived. 

Bobby was busy metalbending a piece of scrap metal into parts he could actually use for his day job as a mechanic. The shop was already closed for the day, but it would be a while before lights out. Sam said a quick hello to Bobby before heading to Bobby’s house next door and crashing on the couch. But Bobby told Dean to stay.

“Mind tellin’ me why you were having that hissy-fit over the phone earlier?” he asked once he was finished working, wiping machine oil off his hands with a rag.

“It was not a hissy-fit! We had the first real lead after months of nothing and I just want to gank the bastard before anyone else dies! How am I supposed to do that when I’m stuck with a Moose-Lord who just wants to take his time and scold me for wanting to speed things up?”

“Have you ever considered that maybe your brother had half some sense in his head when he told you to calm down? You of all people should understand what happens when a firebender loses control. Or have you forgotten all the times Sammy healed you up after you got on the wrong side of your father’s rage?”

Dean flinched, the large scars on his back itching like they always did when he felt threatened. He couldn’t deny Bobby’s words, but he wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction to admitting their truth out loud. It would hurt too much.

“Come on, let’s go to the house. Beer’s in the fridge. Maybe that’ll help you take a load off for a bit,” Bobby sighed, clapping a hand on Dean’s shoulder before locking up the shop.

They watched a few pro bending matches on TV as they made their way through a six-pack, though neither of them was really paying attention. Dean never held much respect for the sport anyway. Those benders wouldn’t stand a chance in a real life conflict yet they were treated as heroes. Not like him and Sam, who lived a life of near-poverty as they traveled all over the four nations hunting down monsters and rogue benders. Or, as in the case they were tracking now, demons. Alistair was a firebending demon who tortured Dean in Hell for the equivalent of 40 years before Dean was finally dragged back to earth by an airbending angel by the name of Castiel. Needless to say, Dean had a bone to pick with the guy. But there was nothing Dean could do about it at the moment, so he fell asleep again despite the long nap he had had earlier in the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback please?


	3. Game Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating for a while, guys. I've both been ill with a cold that made me unable to do pretty much anything and had a series of computer issues. And I promise Cas will pop up some time soon but not in this chapter.

3.  
The next morning Sam woke up early and made Dean’s and Bobby’s favorite kind of breakfast: fried and without a vegetable in sight. He hoped it would put them both in a good mood so they could come up with a plan.

  
“Okay listen up you two,” Bobby said, setting down his utensils after finishing his bacon and eggs. “I know you’ve killed demons before, and even firebending demons before, but this Alistair guy…you’ve gotta be extra careful around him. For one thing, he knows you, Dean. He knows exactly which of your buttons to push and you cannot let anything he says or does get to you if you’re gonna take him down. And Sammy, I hope you’ve been working on your bloodbending, because Alistair’s bound to have a few lackeys around and the less we have to worry about them the better.”

  
Sam shifted nervously in his seat. Sure, he was able to bloodbend, but it made him extremely uncomfortable and he’d only use it as a last resort.

  
“Don’t give me that look, Sam. I know how you feel about it, but when it comes down to you and a bunch of rotten demons, you gotta make sure you get out on top. No excuses,” Bobby said when he saw Sam’s reaction.

  
Dean momentarily stopped shoveling food into his mouth to swallow and say “He’s right, Sammy. I can’t have you flaking out on me.” But Dean’s actual thoughts were more about making sure Sam had a way out if Dean failed. Of course Sam could see right through him. They’d been through enough that Sam knew Dean would always put Sam’s safety before his own. In his own mind, Sam would never forgive Dean for that.

  
“Yeah, I got it. So what’s the plan?” Sam asked, wanting to move past that subject onto a more productive one.

  
“Well, for one, I’m coming with you.”

  
“Bobby-“ Sam and Dean started.

  
“No arguing. I swore to protect you boys and that bastard Alistair has done more than enough damage to you to warrant me kicking his sorry ass back to Hell. And if the least I can do is draw some devil’s traps to keep them inside their lair, so be it.”  
They knew better than to object any more.

  
“Fine. What else?” Dean asked, setting down his utensils and cracking his knuckles.

  
“We need to scope out the joint before the big rumble. Find out if there are any sentries or demon stalkers on our tail.”

  
“So…pretty much standard. I’ll have the demon blade and Sam has his bloodbending. So far not anything different.”

  
“And here comes the hard part: We have to lose.”

  
The shock in Dean’s eyes was evident. “But-“

  
Bobby raised a hand to silence Dean.

  
“Not literally lose, no. But we have to make sure Alistair thinks we have. He’s bound to take Dean aside for some catching up time and it ain’t gonna be pretty. He’s gonna bring out the big guns out for Sam and I too and I don’t know about you but a man in his fifties beating the shit out of a horde of demons ain’t gonna look plausible even if I do manage to do it. And we all know how hesitant Sam is about his bloodbending. We have to put up just enough of a fight for Alistair to think we’ve got nothing left. It’s the only way we can one-up him and you know it.”

  
Dean swallowed, the fried food he loved turning sour in his stomach. “Whatever happens, guys, Alistair is mine to deal with in the end. Don’t even look back if you have a chance to get away.”

  
_Not a chance_ , Sam thought as he stood up to do the dishes. Dean sighed and stood up, excusing himself so he could go get his weapons ready. The conversation was over and they needed time alone to gather their thoughts before they went to Alistair’s hideout that night.


	4. In Which Our Favorite Hunters Get their Asses Kicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say I am so so sorry for going over a year without updating. There are probably hundreds of excuses that come to mind, but I'm here now because I finally got some words down. As always, please give some constructive feedback! I really want to know if people want this to continue.

4.

Sam and Dean set out for the hideout after breakfast. Undoubtedly there was bound to be different activity then than at night, but it was always a good idea to get an understanding of the layout. Though there were a couple of sentries standing outside the building’s entrance, there were no others and Sam and Dean were able to sneak close enough to figure out all the weak defenses.

Because Bobby wouldn’t take no for an answer, they figured they’d use his earth and metalbending to get inside the building later. Though tearing a hole in the wall would create some noise, it would be less conspicuous than trying to go through the front door. Neither Sam nor Dean questioned Bobby’s ability to pull it off efficiently. After all, he made it this far as a hunter without Sam and Dean’s help…a bit of brick and metal was nothing.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Dean was jittery as night fell, a result of both his complicated emotions about what they planned and the absurd amount of coffee he had consumed. Sam did his best to stay calm, but it was damn near impossible when Dean was like this. They went through their plan several times and he lost count of how many times Dean had sharpened and polished the demon blade over the course of the day—which caused Sam to leave the room so he wouldn’t be shattered by anxiety before the fight even began.

“I’m telling you, Sam. If something happens to me, you run and you never look back. Nobody else should die because of that asshole.”

Sam sighed and said nothing in reply.

Bobby, who had been on the lookout, cleared his throat. “Looks a mite busier than you told me earlier, boys,” he whispered, pointing to the whole battalion of demon guards surrounding the building.

“Well ain’t that something? The more demons I get to gank, the better,” Dean growled. “Think you can get us in there? I still see a weak spot on the west side.”

“Can I get you in there, pfft, what, am I that old and fragile, Dean? Give me some credit,” Bobby huffed in reply.

Sam spied a leaking pipe on the side of the building. “I’ll distract them. Go do what you have to do.” Seconds later, a torrent of water showered two of the sentries in what seemed like an unending stream and the look of amusement on Sam’s face easily could have been taken for that of a kid’s—one who was waging war with water balloons at a birthday party.

The hissing noise covered up the slight rumble Bobby caused by creating a hole in the wall nearby and the three of them were able to get inside without incident. “You two go. I’ll repair the hole before it’s found,” Bobby whispered.

Finding Alistair was simple. In fact, it was far too simple. Sure, there had been demons scattered throughout the building, but they were almost comically inept at fighting hunters and their blood was spilled seconds after one another. Sam could feel dread building up in his gut as they approached the very last room. This had to be a trap.

Dean knew a lot of things. He knew where in the country you could find the best burger joints, how to find the cheapest motel in town (though that was more an intuitive Winchester gift), and how to make an impressive DIY EMF detector. And he knew that he was going to get his ass kicked soon. Probably worse. But that didn’t stop him from holding the demon blade out as he kicked open the door.

Alistair made a sickly grin and started clapping from his chair. “Well done, Dean Winchester. Those guys were idiots anyway. They couldn’t even fight a dog off. Thanks for taking them off my hands. But it would have been so much more entertaining if you had drawn it all out…I do so miss hearing you make people scream…”

“Shut the fuck up, Alistair. Now’s the time you start begging for your sorry excuse for a life,” Dean snarled, readying a fireball with his free hand.

“Hey, hey, hey, Dean. Is that how you talk to an old friend? You were the best employee I ever had,” Alistair smiled, looking over at Sam as if he was bragging.

Sam could see the muscles in Dean’s face twitch with pure rage. “Enough. I’m ending this right now,” the firebender seethed.

Sam braced himself for the fight, but Alistair didn’t move.

“So arrogant. After all this time you still think you can beat me. As if you got out of Hell on your own,” Alistair continued, his seemingly calm demeanor growing fiercer with every word. “Admit it. I broke you, Dean Winchester.”

With a cry of fury Dean shot an electric burst towards Alistair. Sam quickly uncapped his canteen of holy water and shot some toward the demon, who didn’t react fast enough to vaporize it and screeched in pain before shooting off some fire orbs towards Sam and Dean. They almost got hit, but as they braced for impact they heard the sizzling of heat and metal and heard Bobby shouting from behind them. He had shielded them with pieces of scrap metal and proceeded to aim them towards Alistair.

Though the metal, combined with bursts of electricity and holy water, managed to impede the demon for a moment, he came back strong and fast, his face fully reflecting the demon he was. Though the hunters were incredibly skilled and strong, they did not have the same strength or stamina of Alistair, whose demon-ness put him at an advantage. The three of them put up a good fight for more than half an hour but grew gradually fatigued, their movements sloppy. They kept making painful mistakes and Sam had run out of holy water.

Bobby was the first to fall to the ground, breathing heavy and looking positively defeated. Sam quickly followed after being hit with a fireball to the shoulder. Dean, however, kept firebending and jabbing at Alistair with the demon blade, shouting with frustration and anguish as his energy waned and the demon grinned at his weakness.

Dean was knocked flat on his back some minutes later and struggled to get up. The world spun around him and he lost his grip on the demon blade.

“I can’t wait to see what Hell has in store for you this time around, Dean,” the demon mused, crouching down next to the fallen hunter. “Though you can be sure after this incident your torture sessions will last much, much longer. Bad behavior needs punishment, you know,” he sighed. Dean’s reaction was to spit in Alistair’s face.

Alistair scowled. “Perhaps I was not clear, Dean. I love torture. It’s what I live for. So it is going to be my pleasure to watch you suffer as I torture your wannabe dad and overly attached kid brother,” he hissed, standing and aiming his hands towards Sam and Bobby. Dean tried to get up to shield them but fell back down as Alistair shot flames towards them.

Dean knew that Bobby told him to ‘lose’ but they never planned for actually losing. “I’m a dumbass,” Dean thought as he embraced the inevitable. “What an incredibly shitty last thought,” his mind added as an afterthought.

But it never came. With a flash of light a being appeared between the hunters and the demon, creating an invisible barrier that reflected the flames back to Alistair. Dean blinked. Something about the outline he saw as he began to pass out seemed vaguely familiar.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Dean finally came to at Bobby’s house. His first instinct was to reach for a weapon, but his hand was stopped by another’s. A pair of blue eyes were hovering above him.

“Hello, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...about that feedback, you know you wanna give me some...


	5. Everything's Fine...For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: References of depression
> 
> Poor Dean.

5.

“Jesus Christ!” Dean gasped, flinching away. 

“No. I am Castiel,” the blue-eyed man answered. “You must have hit your head harder than I thought. Here, let me take care of that-“ he said, reaching for Dean’s forehead before being intercepted by Dean’s arm.

“Oh right. The angel dude who ‘raised me from perdition.’ Now tell me where the hell Sam and Bobby are before I pull off your wings feather by feather,” Dean growled.

“Your brother is taking a shower and Bobby is asleep. If you would let me attend to your burns—“ 

“No. Tell me how I got here. And where is the Impala?” Dean interrupted, wincing as he sat up.

“Your vehicle is just outside. When I healed Bobby at the warehouse he told me I must not er…’poof’ you three back here otherwise you’d be making threats. I see he stands to be corrected. All I’ve done is take you away from that place and offer to heal your wounds and you’ve still managed to make a threat,” Castiel sighed.

Dean’s face went from that of anger to confusion. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Because I’m here you idjit! Now let the angel heal you so I can get some goddamn sleep!” Bobby called from his room down the hall.

“Fine. Do what you want, Cas. But if you pull anything funny I will not hesitate to take you up on that threat,” Dean said in a softer voice.

Cas rolled his eyes and touched Dean’s forehead. Instantly all the burns and other wounds on his body disappeared. “You still should get some rest. I’ve healed your body but not the fatigue,” he advised, looking at Dean with squinted eyes, like he wanted to say something else.

“But what about Alistair? Is he dead?” Dean demanded.

“Yes,” Cas replied. “The ricocheted energy blasts were enough to destroy him. Killed by his own power.”

“Good riddance,” Dean muttered, allowing himself to lean back onto the couch. “So you can buzz off, or whatever angels do when they fly away.”

Mildly annoyance flicked across Castiel’s face. “That’s twice I’ve saved your life, Dean Winchester. The least you could do is act like you appreciate it.”

Dean laughed to himself. “Maybe I didn’t want to be saved,” he replied under his breath, knowing Cas heard by the scowl on the angel’s face. 

“God gave you humans life…why would you take that for granted so easily?”

“Oh don’t act like you’re so superior, Cas. A life of fighting monsters isn’t all peachy keen, and that’s all I’m good for. My ‘God-given’ talent, if you will. And I thought I failed. Last I heard, God is M.I.A. and doesn’t give a shit about what’s happening on Earth right now anyway. So don’t you dare judge me.”

The angel’s response was to soften his scowl into something more neutral. “The other angels and I are…well…concerned about the whereabouts of our Father. I now see why you might react in the way that you did. Confusion about the task that lies ahead creates much conflict even with celestial beings.”

“I wasn’t confused. I knew exactly what would happen if I lost Sammy and Bobby and failed to kill that sonofabitch,” Dean retorted.

Cas was quiet for a moment. “I have to return to Heaven. The duties of the angels have increased exponentially due to Father’s absence,” he muttered before disappearing.

Dean closed his eyes and let out a breath. His last thought before falling asleep was how the look in Castiel’s eyes changed after Dean’s last statement. It seemed as if Castiel was finally beginning to understand what true hopelessness was like…and, oddly enough, devotion to the people you love as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still deciding what will happen next. Constructive feedback would be most helpful!


	6. The Art of Interference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is so fascinating about those Winchesters anyway?

6\.   
Castiel hadn’t spent so much time watching one person from Heaven before. Sure, he cared about humans and hated to see them in pain, but after that day it seemed as if his eyes were opened to something he never really knew existed before. Day in and day out, he watched as Sam and Dean battled monsters, taking case after case without having a place that was truly their own or getting much thanks for saving other people’s lives.

He saw that Sam had such a strong urge to prove himself…that he hated to be a burden on anyone, least of all his brother. Sam Winchester felt so much guilt…and for what Castiel was not sure, but he saw the rage behind it every time the waterbender came up against a monster.

And he saw Dean. As powerful as his brother, and having as much guilt. But whereas Sam was openly softer outside of fighting monsters, Dean maintained a façade of strength and brutality that fell apart whenever Dean had a moment to stop and think. Castiel wondered if that’s why Dean had never settled down in one place for a while…time to think meant facing demons that didn’t spout fire at you.

 

The Winchesters had been on continuous cases every day for two months without any respite. And then they had just happened upon a sizable horde of high-ranking demons on accident. None of them were Alistair-powerful, but they weren’t your average crossroads demons either. And the Winchesters were trapped. 

Sam was barely conscious and Dean was completely knocked out and both were cuffed with heavy chains. Obviously unconcerned that the boys would try anything, the demons had left the room to plan exactly what kind of painful deaths they wanted to give the hunters. It wouldn’t take long for them to come back and the Winchesters’ minutes were numbered. Castiel looked at the scene and wondered what would happen when the Winchesters were no longer alive. What horrible things would those demons do to their bodies? 

Castiel didn’t realize what he was doing until he had already killed half the demons in the horde. Spattered in blood, he quickly dispatched the rest and made his way to the room where Sam and Dean were chained. Sam squinted.

“C-Castiel?” he murmured. “What happened to the demons?”

“They are dead,” the angel replied flatly. 

“Uh, thanks. Do you mind getting us out of these chains? I mean, you’ve already done too much, but I don’t think I could pick a lock even if I had the tools right now,” Sam said, wincing because of a bleeding wound near his ear.

A quick hack with the angel blades made the chains fall to the ground. Knowing Sam was concerned about Dean’s welfare, Castiel healed him the instant afterwards. As Dean regained consciousness, Castiel looked at Sam. 

“That looks painful. Let me take care of it,” he said, healing Sam with a touch to the forehead. Sam made an appreciative face and looked back towards his now-awake brother.

“What’s up, Cas?” Dean said, sitting up roughly. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“I…well…it did not seem like the right time for you to die.”

“We were fine!” Dean snorted.

Sam scoffed. “We were done for, Dean! God, I…why can’t you ever just say thanks and be done with it?”

Dean was silent. 

“Thank you, Cas,” Sam said, glaring at his brother. “From the both of us.”

“I am happy to assist you Winchesters. You do more good in this world than many angels I know,” Cas said, instantly confused at his candor with the last statement. That would anger several angels if they heard it, but Cas still felt it to be true and even worth punishment. 

He continued “And I believe it is my duty to tell you that you need to stop taking cases for a few days. Your bodies cannot go through this much exhaustion for much longer. I’d hate to see the world lose two of its best hunters to something as mundane as a lack of sleep.”

Dean rolled his eyes at that, but knew it was true. “Fine. A few days. Sam, let’s go before bird-brain over here starts a therapy session,” he said, heading towards the door.

Sam got up and followed Dean out, mouthing another “Thank you” to the angel that had saved them once again behind Dean’s back.

Castiel watched them leave before going back up to Heaven, having a feeling in his gut that things like this were going to happen more often and wondering how long it would be before it got him into trouble. Angels saving humans from natural disasters or other humans or everyday perils were one thing—that was their calling. But interfering with the Winchesters’ hunts so thoughtlessly and recklessly…Castiel didn’t know if his siblings would approve of him picking favorites. Favorites? Did Castiel really see the Winchesters as his favorites? The angel continued to wrestle with it in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all your kudos! Let me know what you'd like to see in this fic in future chapters :D


	7. Dean Needs a Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this Cas guy could be useful

7.  
Dean couldn’t sleep again. It happened every night that week.

This rarely happened to him, even after his stay in Hell. He was used to being sleep-deprived all the time that even if he had nightmares it was always easy for him to fall back asleep. But for some reason, that stopped after Cas saved him and Sam a week prior. He had even tried to take Cas’s advice and get a normal amount of rest for once, even taking a few days off of cases, but it just wasn’t working. His mind just wouldn’t be quiet enough for him to sleep. If that Castiel could heal people, Dean wondered why the angel never fixed the fatigue. Was Cas just proving a point or did he not actually have the ability to fix it? It didn’t make sense. Glancing over at the sleeping Sam (who at some point managed to wriggle half of his body off the bed), he took a breath and closed his eyes.

“I pray for Castiel to get his feathery ass down here,” he muttered under his breath, not expecting anything to happen.

The curtains moved with the slight breeze that happened when Cas appeared.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Jesus, Cas, could you not say it like that? You sound like a freakin’ psychopath,” Dean replied, trying to pretend he wasn’t startled.

“…Sorry. I am still getting the hang of ‘people skills’,” the angel replied, actually doing air quotes.

There was an awkward silence for a moment. 

“Dean, why did you pray to me?”

“You said you can heal people. So why can’t I get a fucking decent night’s sleep?”

The angel sighed. “I did not think it was right to meddle with your mind without your consent.”

“My mind?! All I need is for my body to sleep for a while, not go under the angel version of the Imperius Curse!” Dean hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cas said, rubbing his eyes wearily though his ‘angel mojo’ meant he wasn’t physically tired in the slightest.

“Forget it. It was only something a nerd like Sam would know anyway. My point is, my mind ain’t being probed by anyone, ever.”

“It is your thoughts that keep you lying awake at night, is it not?” 

“Well, yeah, but-“

“Then you must realize that you must keep your thoughts from controlling your psyche in order to make it possible for you to fall asleep.”

“Then forget it. I don’t need your help.”

“Then why did you pray to me?”

Dean let out a breath. “I haven’t been able to focus on anything all week. I almost got Sam with the demon blade today. I can’t keep going with sleep. It’s not safe for Sammy.”

“It’s not safe for you, either,” Castiel added.

“That don’t matter. I’m supposed to protect Sammy. If he gets hurt because of me, well, I think you know what will happen.”

Castiel looked contemplative for a moment. “I do want to help you, Dean. But I can’t do it unless you want to be helped.”

Dean rubbed his eyes, which had heavy bags under them, and sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it. For Sam.”

“It’s a simple process, really,” Cas said. “I, along with your help, will construct a mental barrier to keep your intrusive thoughts and memories at the back of your mind rather than the front. All you need to do, is to visualize those things and to mark them so I can clearly see which ones to push back.”

“Fine,” Dean replied, having no trouble at all to once again circulate the things in his head that had been haunting him for what seemed like forever.

With a single touch to Dean’s forehead, Castiel had eased the pain in Dean’s mind, and the human instantly felt all the physical fatigue pile up on him at once. He slumped onto his side and was asleep within the next few seconds.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
When Dean woke the next morning (11 o’clock, he could hardly believe it), he found that his shoes had been removed and he’d been moved to the center of the bed with a blanket put over his shoulders. He blushed to himself. If it was Sam or Castiel who had done it, he’d never live it down. He could’ve taken care of it himself. 

Breakfast (it smelled heavenly) was on the table with a note from Sam that said “Figured you needed to sleep. I’ll be at the library on 10th and Maple.”

Dean yawned and used his bending to warm up the food while he contemplated what had happened the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have given kudos and bookmarked! I'd love to see some comments!


	8. Give Credit to Whom it is Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break from toil

8.  
Dean hated to admit it, but Cas really had helped him. He hadn’t gotten such good sleep since he was a kid. With all that extra energy, he took the extra time to work on his bending, sometimes sparring with Sam and Bobby. He’d never been unfit, but his body looked healthier and stronger than ever.

After a particularly invigorating sparring match with Sam, Dean took time to eat his lunch and look over potential cases, not scarfing down his food like he normally did. Sam smiled.

“What?” Dean demanded. “Something on my face?”

“No, nothing. I was just thinking…you’re looking…different. Happier, I mean.”

“I dunno about happier, but I haven’t been able to kick your ass so easily in a fight like that since I was taller than you. Pretty great, if you ask me,” he chuckled.

“Maybe you should thank Cas.”

Dean looked like a deer in the headlights. “Huh?”

“I know he was here that night. He left me a note, telling me to let you sleep in the next morning. You prayed to him, didn’t you?”

“Nah. He was just stalking us again. Creep,” Dean lied, taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Right. I know he did something to help you, Dean, and there’s no shame in that. I mean, what good is having an angel friend if he can’t do what angels do?”

“Woah woah woah. I wouldn’t call him a friend. Has he saved our asses more than once? Yes. Did he help me deal with some things and help me fall asleep again? Yes. But we hardly know the guy.”

“Then what would you call him? I mean, you don’t confide in just anyone.”

Dean was silent.

Sam decided to change the subject. “I heard they’ve discovered some old war-time bending scrolls about 2 hours from here. They’ve been letting the public go read them at the local museum. Do you think we could maybe go check them out?”

“Always the nerd,” Dean sighed. “Okay, sure. There doesn’t seem to be any cases happening anyway. And I’m getting tired of the same old tricks.”

“Sweet. I’ll go pack the Impala,” Sam said, abruptly shutting his laptop and shoving it in his messenger bag before grabbing a duffel and heading outside.

Dean shut his laptop and let out a breath. He wasn’t the kind of guy that would express gratitude so easily, but he couldn’t deny that Sam had a point.

He closed his eyes. “Okay, Cas. I need to tell you something,” he prayed. The flutter of wings behind him indicated that the angel had listened.

Dean stood up and rubbed his neck, not meeting Castiel’s face. “Look, man, I don’t do this often, so don’t expect it every time I talk to you. Sam will make me feel guilty if I don’t say it at least once. I, uh, thanks for what you did. I’ve been…uh…well…Sam is happy now. He’s not so concerned over me anymore. I can make sure he’s safe now. Thank you for helping me do what I have to do…friend…” he muttered. After a moment, he finally looked up.

Castiel was smiling. “I told you. I’m happy to help you fight the monsters of this world. The people need you. I wouldn’t have pulled you from Hell if I didn’t know for certain it was going to be worth it.” The angel hesitated before lifting a hand and squeezing Dean’s shoulder affectionately. “Just keep fighting. I’ll come when you call. And…you’re welcome, my friend,” he said before disappearing.

Sam, watching the conversation unfold through the window of the hotel room, grinned. Things were going to be okay. At least, for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I needed a little bit of light-heartedness. Thank you to those who gave kudos and bookmarked! If you have any suggestions, feel free to comment (constructively, please)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in either of these fandoms and I'm relatively new to Avatar, so please give me some feedback.


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